


Forever Love

by adrianna_m_scovill



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Character Death, F/F, F/M, Family Drama, Grief/Mourning, Heavy Angst, Pregnancy, sad sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-26
Updated: 2019-12-26
Packaged: 2021-02-25 04:54:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21970243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adrianna_m_scovill/pseuds/adrianna_m_scovill
Summary: The original prompt for this was "Olivia's wife gets pregnant by her ex, Rafael Barba." While there are clearly multiple ways to interpret that, I went much darker than I was supposed to go. This is not holiday fluff, it's very angsty and also deals with the death of a loved one.Also, I'm sorry if it doesn't track very well. I somehow managed to procrastinate this fic for 8 whole months and then had to write it in 2 days, so it's much shorter than intended. Although considering the amount of crying in it, that's probably a good thing.
Relationships: Olivia Benson/Original Female Character(s), Rafael Barba/Olivia Benson
Comments: 7
Kudos: 54
Collections: Rafioli Fic Exchange





	Forever Love

Olivia was shrugging into her jacket when Emily returned from taking Noah to school.

“I need to talk to you,” Emily said quietly as she set her keys on the table.

Olivia hesitated, her stomach twisting nervously. She smoothed her hands over the front of her jacket. Things had been tense between the two women for months. Olivia knew it was probably her fault, but she wasn’t sure what was wrong or how to fix it. The change in Emily had come suddenly, and Olivia didn’t know what she’d done to precipitate the distance that seemed to have sprung up between them.

“Can it wait? I’m going to be late for work,” Olivia said. She felt a rush of guilt as soon as the words left her mouth.

“You’re the boss, you can show up whenever you want.”

“That’s not how being a boss works,” Olivia answered. “Or…at least not how it should.” She sighed and glanced at her watch. “I’ll be home by—”

“Noah will be here,” Emily cut in.

With her stomach squirming, Olivia said, “We can talk after he’s asleep.” She didn’t like to think of herself as a coward, but she was terrified of whatever Emily wanted to say. “I’m sorry, I really have to—”

“I’m pregnant,” Emily said, and Olivia froze. She stared at the door for long moments, trying to process the words.

“What?”

“Just over two months. I didn’t want to tell you until I was sure.”

Olivia turned slowly to face her wife. She could feel the pain and anger fighting in her gut, but they were dulled by shock. “You didn’t want to _tell_ me. That you…cheated on me,” she said. Her lips were numb, her skin cold.

“It wasn’t like that,” Emily said quietly. There were tears in her eyes, but Olivia couldn’t even sort through her own emotions yet. She had no room for Emily’s.

“It wasn’t like that,” Olivia repeated, and the anger surged to the surface as her brain processed the words. “You’re two months pregnant, we’ve been married for six months, and last time I checked I’m not getting anyone pregnant, so—”

“Liv,” Emily said, reaching out a hand.

Olivia stepped away and held up a finger. “I need you to not touch me right now,” she said in a low, hoarse voice.

“Okay,” Emily answered, wrapping herself in a hug. Tears spilled over her cheeks. “But Liv, I’m gonna need you to forgive me,” she said. The words were barely audible, and filled with the shards of a broken heart. _Two_ broken hearts. “Because there’s something else.”

* * *

“Are you okay?” Olivia asked. She knew the question was stupid but she asked it anyway. They always seemed to spend their time pretending when they were in public.

“Yes,” Emily answered, managing a small smile. She had an arm wrapped around her distended belly. Her face was pale—not just pale but tinged with gray, and there were dark circles under her eyes. She’d lost weight during the later months of her pregnancy despite the growth of her stomach and the child within, and it was most noticeable in her face. She tired so easily now that Olivia had had serious doubts about this outing, but Emily had insisted. Olivia didn’t have the heart to deny Emily her last chance to enjoy the holiday season.

“We can take a break,” Olivia said, looking around for a bench. The store was packed with Christmas shoppers.

“I’m okay,” Emily said. “Really,” she added when Olivia eyed her skeptically.

“You need a drink, Momily?” Noah asked, moving to swing his backpack off.

“No, thank you baby.” Emily held up a hand to stop him and then touched her fingers to his cheek, smiling. “You go ahead and find what you want and I’ll catch up in a minute.”

Noah’s skeptical look matched Olivia’s, but he nodded and glanced at Olivia before turning away.

“We don’t have to do this all today,” Olivia said quietly. She rubbed a hand up and down Emily’s arm, trying to ignore the fear and pain that had been simmering in her gut for six months. “We still have a few—”

“Uncle Rafa?” Noah asked behind her, and Olivia turned in surprise at the familiar voice that answered.

“ _Noah_? Wow, kid, you’ve gotten—Are you shaving yet?”

Olivia heard Noah laugh as she turned, and then her eyes met Barba’s and she felt the jolt all the way to her toes. “Barba,” she said.

“Hi, Liv.” His smile was friendly—maybe a little cautious, but there was no doubt that he was happy to see her and Noah. He’d put a hand on the boy’s shoulder, and Noah looked like he’d just gotten a great Christmas gift. “How are you?” His gaze slid down to her left hand. She didn’t think it was intentional; she’d done the same thing, automatically checking his finger for a ring. He wasn’t wearing one, but she saw his face tighten a little at the sight of hers. Then his smile brightened again and he ruffled Noah’s hair. “It’s so good to see you.”

“You look good,” Olivia told him. “New job must be agreeing with you?”

“Oh, you know,” he said with a shrug. Before he could say anything else, his gaze slipped past her and she saw half a dozen emotions pass over his expression in a matter of seconds.

“Arby?” Emily said. The word was barely audible in the noise of the holiday crowd, but it found its way straight into Olivia’s chest.

Barba hesitated, clearly trying to make sense of something that made no sense, before saying, “Emily?” His eyes searched her face, taking in the sunken cheeks and gray complexion that makeup couldn’t completely hide, and he looked down to the obviously-pregnant belly jutting out of her gaunt frame, and his questing gaze found the ring on her finger that matched Olivia’s.

“No,” Olivia said, the word slipping past her lips before she could think to stop it.

_“His name is Arby but that’s all I can tell you now.”_

_“What do you mean, all you can tell me? Did he hurt you?”_

_“No. No, it wasn’t like that. I’ll explain everything to you when the time is right but…for right now I need this to be about us. Please, Liv. This baby is for us, for you—"_

“I don’t understand,” Barba said. His tone was cautious, and his words were plucked from Olivia’s brain where they were playing on a loop.

_I don’t understand. I don’t understand._ Except she was afraid she _did_. She shook her head but that didn’t help the pieces fall into place.

“It wasn’t supposed to happen like this,” Emily said—as though that explained or excused anything. There was a note of panic in her voice that broke through some of Olivia’s shock, and she started to turn toward Emily. “Please,” Emily begged, reaching for her wife’s arm, her eyes pleading for understanding.

“ _Barba_?” Olivia asked Emily in a hoarse whisper. She’d forgotten about everyone else around them. “Did you know who he was?”

_“We talked about surrogacy, we talked about—"_

_“Yeah, we talked about making a decision together. You went behind my back and—and—what? Got inseminated?” She knew the answer, though. It was shining in Emily’s eyes._

_“There wasn’t time. Please, I need you to forgive me—”_

_“You keep saying that.”_

_“I did this for you.”_

Emily had her arms wrapped around her stomach. “Let me explain,” she said.

“Mom?” Noah asked, and there was fear in his voice.

“Let’s go sit down,” Olivia said, alarmed by the way Emily was swaying on her feet. She took hold of her wife’s arm; she was bundled up in so many layers—she got cold so easily now—that Olivia could barely feel the thin arm inside.

“There’s a bench over here,” Barba said, but before Olivia could look where he was pointing she saw Emily’s eyes roll up into her head. Olivia called her name, and she heard Barba swear as he surged forward to grab Emily’s other arm as the pregnant woman’s knees buckled.

* * *

“Do you need anything?” Barba asked. “Something to eat or drink?”

Noah shook his head without looking up from his video game.

Barba watched him for a few moments. He didn’t know what he was supposed to be doing, for Noah or for anyone else. His toes tapped the linoleum, itching to pace the floor. He glanced at his watch and then the clock on the wall as though it would tell him something different.

“Momily’s gonna die,” Noah said quietly.

_Momily_ , Barba thought, struck for a moment by the cuteness of the name. The words burrowed into his stomach, though, and he didn’t know what to say. He could offer no reassurances because he didn’t have any facts. He wanted to ask questions but not of Noah.

The boy looked up at him, and Barba could see the raw pain in Noah’s blue eyes. Barba reached out instinctively to put a hand against the boy’s curls. He thought Noah might pull away. They hadn’t seen each other in a long time, after all, and it would be natural for Noah to resent Barba’s absence from his life.

Noah’s eyes filled with tears and he sniffled, fidgeting. “She didn’t need a baby,” he said in a harsh whisper. There were a dozen unspoken things buried behind those words, and Barba understood some of them, enough of them to feel Noah’s pain.

“I’m sorry you’re hurting, Noah,” he said quietly, because it was all he could think to say. “I wish I could make it better.”

There were so many thoughts that Barba was trying to sort through, and he needed someone to explain them to him. He knew that Olivia Benson’s wife was pregnant and apparently very ill. Noah’s words— _Momily’s gonna die_ —could be attributed to the worry of a child, but Barba felt their validity in his chest. Emily didn’t look like she had the flu, she looked like the life was being sucked out of her. If he had to guess, he’d say some sort of cancer, and based on Noah’s other words— _She didn’t need a baby_ —Barba would further guess that her pregnancy had thrown a wrench into any plans for treatment she might’ve had.

Barba also knew that he and Emily had spent a night together in the spring, and that he hadn’t seen or heard from her since. They’d met in a bar, and she’d only given her first name. Before she left in the early hours of the morning, he’d asked for her phone number. She’d given him a number, but when he tried to call it two days later he realized quickly enough that it wasn’t hers.

He wasn’t going to assume the baby was his until he had more information, but the churning of worry in his stomach had a few new squiggles that weren’t entirely unpleasant at the thought. He ignored those, or tried.

“Are you gonna leave again?” Noah asked, drawing Barba out of his thoughts.

Barba had no idea how to answer that question. “I’m sorry I haven’t seen you very much,” he said. “I missed you. You’ve grown up a lot.”

“Missed you, too,” Noah muttered, looking down at the game in his lap.

Before Barba could say more, he saw Benson through the windows of the waiting room. He surged to his feet. Beside her, Emily was in a wheelchair being pushed by a nurse. The pregnant woman looked awful, but at least she was conscious.

Noah rushed to the door and over to the wheelchair, throwing his arms around Emily’s neck, and she hugged him tightly in return, murmuring into his ear. Barba bent and gathered up Noah’s things, sliding the video game into his backpack before straightening and meeting Olivia’s eyes. He walked toward her slowly, unsure what to expect. He wasn’t going to leave without answers, but he also didn’t want to be an asshole when they were clearly all under a lot of emotional stress.

“I’m going to take them home,” Olivia said quietly. She had dark circles under her eyes—not as noticeable as Emily’s, but they were there. She’d lost weight, too, although Barba doubted she was aware of the fact. “I know this is…” She closed her eyes for a moment and shook her head before spearing him with a gaze that was too bright. “I know you have a lot of questions but I need you to not demand anything of her right now.”

He nodded cautiously, glancing past her. Emily met his eyes for a moment and quickly looked away. “I’m trying,” he said in a low voice meant only for Olivia.

“Meet me in two hours at Forlini’s,” she said.

He nodded again even though it wasn’t really a question.

* * *

He got there early but he waited outside in the cold. It was snowing, just a few light flurries of flakes.

He was afraid that if he went inside, he would start drinking to numb the worry in his stomach, and he didn’t think that would help the situation. He needed answers and he needed to be clearheaded when he received them.

“Hey,” he said when Olivia walked up, and she nodded. She offered a small, tired smile and led the way through the door. When they got inside she headed toward the bar, automatically aiming for their old stools without thinking about it. Rafael’s fingers brushed her arm for only an instant, and he said, “Wait, let’s take the booth.”

She hesitated. It would be harder to avoid his eyes if they were sitting across from each other, harder to keep him from reading her face—but his expression was earnest, and she couldn’t come up with a respectable reason to refuse, so she nodded and followed him to the table. They slipped out of their coats and into opposite sides of the booth.

They didn’t speak until after their drinks had been delivered.

“I didn’t know,” he finally said, and his eyes and voice were begging her to understand, to _believe_. He wasn’t sure why he felt that was the first thing that needed to be said, but it was important. No matter what else was going on, he needed her to know that he had never intentionally done anything to hurt her.

She looked down into her glass. “I didn’t suppose you did,” she answered. She watched the light dancing in her wine, considering. “You and married women? Not your—”

“Liv,” he said, “please.” When she raised her eyes to his, he said, “That’s not what I mean—you know that’s not what I mean. Of course I didn’t know she was married but I especially didn’t know she was married to _you_.”

“No. I know. This is a cosmic joke at my expense, you know?”

“I know that you’re hurt, that all of this—”

“You’re off the hook this time, Rafael,” she cut in. “This one isn’t your fault. And I don’t need anything from you.”

He swallowed, hard, and looked down at his hands around his glass. He hadn’t taken so much as a sip, yet. “I realize I’ve given you ample reason to hate me—”

“I don’t hate you.”

“—but I’m not just going to—”

“I could never hate you.”

“—turn my back on…on her, on the…the baby…”

“The _her_ you refer to is my _wife_ ,” she said, and she saw his eyes close for several seconds.

“If it’s mine,” he finished without looking at her.

“It never took you long to put a puzzle together,” she said. “I’m still processing some of…” She grimaced and took a swallow of wine. “You slept with my wife,” she said flatly. “You, the man I—who used to be the best friend I had. She’s pregnant with _your child_.” Her eyes flashed in the overhead lights.

He opened his mouth and closed it again. _My child_ , he thought. He stared across the table at Olivia, the only woman he’d ever loved in a way that would make him consider becoming a father. “We used protection,” he mumbled through numb lips. His cheeks were hot.

“She poked holes in the condoms,” she said.

“I…” He shook his head.

“I know this isn’t your fault,” she said, and he could hear the anguish in her voice, “but I can’t be mad at her.”

He swallowed and nodded once in understanding.

She dropped her face into her hands and made a low sound in her throat. He knew that she was holding on by a thread but he also knew that almost anyone else would’ve cracked under the pressure of being everything for everyone.

_My child_ , he thought again, but he couldn’t process that yet. “Why?” he asked. “Why did she—”

“I can’t give you answers that’ll make you feel better, Rafael,” she said into her hands.

“Let me worry about my feelings,” he said quietly, and she lifted her face to look at him. “Just…please help me understand.”

She considered for long moments, sipping at her wine as she tried to gather her thoughts into something cohesive. “We talked about having more kids. Adopting, or surrogacy. I was leaned more toward the former, and I thought she would be, too. She’s a social worker, did you know?” When he shook his head, she continued, “That’s how she knew who you were.” She paused again.

“She knew who I was,” he said. At her nod, he added, “She planned it? When she came up to me…she read my initials on my briefcase.”

“Arby,” Olivia murmured, looking into her glass, her eyes unfocused.

“I thought it was cute. I thought…” He wasn’t without anger at the realization that he’d been played and used, but he did his best to rein it in. He took a deep breath and released it slowly. “I tried to call her but she gave me a fake number. What was her plan if she didn’t get pregnant?”

“She says she was going to try again,” she answered quietly without looking at him.

“Why me?”

“They told her she had a year to live if she was lucky. More like six months, they said. If she started treatments, she could extend that. But there was no guarantee and no chance of…of…” She stopped and cleared her throat, raising her watery gaze to his. “She didn’t tell me. Not until after. She kept saying she’d done it for me, and I didn’t understand what she meant. I’d never given her any reason to think I needed a baby, certainly not more than I wanted or needed _her_ in my life, and being pregnant was only going to add more stress to her body, shorten the time she had left, add to her pain…” She closed her eyes and drew a shaky breath. “I didn’t know it was you. She kept telling me she would explain everything when the time was right, that she just needed it to be about our _family_ , about _us_ for now, and—and, Rafael, I knew I was going to lose her. I don’t want to lose her and there’s nothing I can do about it.” He reached across the table and grabbed her hands, and she clutched desperately at his fingers. “I don’t know what I’m doing,” she whispered. She stared at him, silently begging him to understand.

_Why me?_ he thought, but he didn’t repeat the question. He knew the answer even if he didn’t want to admit it.

“She knew I was in love with you,” she whispered. “I don’t think there’s anything she could’ve done that would hurt me more, and she thought she was doing it _for_ me, that this was some sort of gift…What am I supposed to do, Raf?” Tears spilled down her cheeks and his own vision blurred in response to her pain.

_She knew I was in love with you_. “I don’t know,” he answered, squeezing her hands. “I don’t even know what I’m thinking or feeling. Liv, I don’t want to interfere in your family and the last thing I want to do is make your life more complicated right now. But I can’t…just disappear…”

“I never wanted you to disappear in the first place,” she hissed, pulling her hands out of his grasp. “You made that choice for both of us, you never asked me. And I wasn’t consulted about this, either. I tried to convince her to get an abortion, you know. I didn’t have any connection to the _baby_ , it _wasn’t_ a baby as far as I was concerned, it was her I wanted. More time, however much time I could have, whatever treatment she needed to make that time last. _She_ chose to cut that time short with _no regard_ for what _I_ needed, what _Noah_ needed, and then she—”

“She’s losing you, too, Liv,” he said quietly. Olivia sucked in a sharp breath. He could see her struggling to hold onto the anger, could see it slipping through her fingers. “I can’t imagine how terrifying it must be to get that kind of news and know there’s nothing you can do about it. Maybe she’s got faith, I don’t know. I know mine’s taken some knocks over the years but I’d like to believe there is someplace for us after this world. But we all have to face that alone in the end, don’t we? We all have to say goodbye to the people we love with no real guarantee we’ll see them again, and all we can do is hope that we made their lives better while we were here. I can’t say what she was thinking, or what I would think in her place, but…I know that she loves you.”

“She fucked you.”

Barba winced and glanced away. “It wasn’t like that.”

“Do you think that makes me _feel better_? If you felt some sort of emotional connection?”

“Liv, it wasn’t like that either,” he said, forcing his eyes back to her. “I can’t change it and I never in a million years expected to be here.”

“But you are here,” she said flatly. “I’m stuck with you because I can’t refuse to let you see a kid that’s not even mine.”

“I would never—”

“What? You’d never _what_? Come in and take _your kid_ —”

“Do you want it?” he asked, and her mouth snapped shut. “I’ve had a few hours to try to wrap my head around the possibility of being a parent, but you’ve had, what? How many months? When is she due?”

“January 15th,” she breathed.

“And you said you weren’t thinking about it as a baby. I can understand the resentment, I really can, but have your feelings changed?”

She made a strangled sound as fresh tears fell from her eyes. He didn’t dare reach for her again but he kept his hands on the table in case she needed them. “Yes,” she whispered.

“You’ve gone to the doctor appointments,” he said. It was a guess, but he had confidence in the assumption. “Seen the ultrasounds, gotten all the progress reports. I know your focus has been on Emily but I also know you have to’ve thought about…after.”

“This baby is a piece of her, the only piece I’ll have left,” she said. “Please don’t—” She couldn’t finish, though. She couldn’t put her fear into words.

“I would never do that,” he said quietly.

“I know,” she rasped.

“You could fight me even if I tried.”

“Fight you in court?” she asked with the ghost of a smile touching her lips. “Do you think I’m an idiot?”

“No,” he said with absolute sincerity, leaning over the table. “But neither am I. I know that this kid will be lucky to have you as their mother. I have no idea where we go from here, Liv, I just need you to know that I’m here.”

“It’s a girl,” she said quietly. “She’s a girl.”

_A daughter_ , he thought. “Does Emily have family?”

“No. It’s just her and me, and Noah.” She considered for a moment. “Hey, I guess your mother will finally have the grandkid she always wanted.” Before he could answer, her face crumpled again.

Barba moved instinctively, sliding out of the booth and onto the seat beside her. He put an arm around her shoulders, unsure if she would shove him away. “I know you don’t like me very much right now but I promise you, you’re not alone. We’ll figure out whatever we need to figure out, but for right now—”

She turned and grabbed him, clutching at his shirt and burying her face against his chest. “Maybe I do hate you,” she said. The words seemed to tear themselves from her throat and all he could do was tighten his arms around her.

* * *

She was in control of herself when she opened the apartment door on Christmas morning, but Barba wasn’t surprised. For Emily and Noah, she would keep herself composed. She even managed a smile that seemed genuine when she let him in.

“Thanks for coming,” she told him.

“Of course,” he said quietly, letting her take the gifts from his arms so he could shrug out of his coat and hang it on the rack. “Thanks for inviting me.”

Olivia looked down at the presents he’d brought—one marked _Noah, from Uncle Rafael_ and the other labeled _Baby Benson._

“I don’t really know the protocol on giving babies Christmas presents before they’re born,” he admitted as he pulled off his wet boots. “And I thought it would be awkward if I brought gifts for…anyone else.”

It was a real smile that she offered him then, even if it was tired and sad. “Thank you. Please, come on in. We already opened presents this morning, but I’ll put this one under the tree for now and Noah can open his when we get back.”

“Back?” Barba asked, hesitating.

“Noah and I are running out to get hot chocolate,” she said, giving him a pointed look. “I thought you deserved a chance to ask some questions in private.”

“Oh.” He ran his hands over his sweater and glanced toward the living room where Emily was sitting bundled up in a thick blanket. She looked worse than she had a few days earlier, and Barba had a single unwelcome but undeniable thought: _She’ll never make it another three weeks._ “Okay.”

“I’ll bring you a coffee,” Olivia said. She looked toward Emily and then back to Barba. “I know you have a lot of reason to be upset, and you’ve been patient—”

“Don’t worry,” Barba interrupted, touching a hand to her arm.

Olivia nodded and smiled as Noah came out of his room and hurried over. “Hi, Uncle Raf,” he said.

“Hey, buddy, merry Christmas.”

“Look, he brought you a present,” Olivia said, handing the boy his gift. “Go set it by the tree and you can open it when we get back.”

“Thanks,” Noah said. He eyed the other present for a moment. “I’ll put that one over there, too.”

Olivia bent and kissed his head. “Thanks, honey. Then get your boots and coat on.”

* * *

“I know she probably told you to take it easy on me,” Emily said, looking across at him as he settled into the armchair, “but she’s gone and you can yell if you want. I know how horrible it is, what I did.”

“I’m not going to yell,” he said. He thought of how much she’d changed in just eight months and his heart ached not just for Olivia, but for Emily, too. She was barely recognizable as the woman he’d met. He tried not to think of the time they’d spent together; the memories were pleasant but now felt like a betrayal.

“I know it must seem awful and insane, and unfair. I made choices for everyone else. But…no matter how much you might hate me, I’m not sorry. No matter what happens to me, Liv’s going to have this baby, our baby. Hers and mine…and yours. She was right about you. I knew it that night, but now? Anyone else would’ve been an asshole about all of this, and I wouldn’t blame them. But you’ve been…remarkably reasonable.”

“I don’t condone what you did and I can’t claim to fully have my head wrapped around any of this yet, but this is a tough situation for everyone. Especially you. I recognize that and I’m doing my best to see things from your perspective.”

“And you don’t want to do or say anything that’ll hurt Liv.”

“I don’t want to hurt you, either, Emily.”

“No. Because you’re a nice guy. But Liv, you really do love, don’t you? Still, after all this time.”

“I’m not sure there’s a good way to answer that.”

“Don’t worry, I know she’s still in love with you. I don’t guess it’s the kind of love you get over, you know? Oh, I know she loves me, too. I know she does. But the way I love her…is the way she loves you, and I can’t blame her for that. We can’t choose that sort of thing. But it’s why I didn’t tell her who you were. I wanted her to have you after I was gone, but I wanted to keep her until then.”

Barba’s eyes burned as those words settled over him. “She would choose you over me.”

“Only because you never gave her the choice,” she said. “But believe it or not, I’m glad to see that you still feel the same way she does. It might not absolve me of my guilt but at least I know…” She trailed off, looking toward the colored lights on the Christmas tree. “I hope Noah can forgive me,” she said, barely above a whisper. “I love him so much and I know he doesn’t understand why I made the choices I did. I wrote him a letter for when he’s a little older.”

“He’ll be okay.”

She turned her gaze back to his. “He still talks about you. He has a stuffed toy you gave him when he was a toddler.” She paused. “Whether you know it or not, you were always a part of this family.”

* * *

They delivered the baby by emergency caesarian two days later. Emily wasn’t expected to make it through the surgery, but she lived long enough to hold her baby—with Olivia’s help.

They pulled Barba from the waiting area into a separate room and Olivia met him there with the baby. When she carefully slipped the little girl into his arms, something shifted inside of him and he knew that he would never be the same. Olivia smiled at the sight of them, but he could see that she was reeling. He couldn’t help her, so he stayed with the baby while she went in to say goodbye to her wife.

Noah was with Rollins. Barba understood the decision to keep the boy away from the hospital, and the sight of Emily at the end, but he also knew that it was going to be incredibly difficult for Noah to process. Luckily, he had Olivia to help him; the two of them would grieve their loss differently but together, and Barba couldn’t take that away from them. All he could do was be there if they needed him.

As he stared down at the sleeping face of his tiny daughter, he was overcome by emotion. He could scarcely comprehend how he’d come to this place; in the course of a single week, his entire life had changed, and now he was partially responsible for a whole new person, a beautiful and innocent child that he would die to protect.

“ _Mija_ ,” he murmured, his eyes brimming with tears. “ _Soy tu papi_ ,” he told her.

He sat and held her until she stirred and started to cry, and a nurse brought a bottle and helped him feed her. He asked about Emily and was told that she was gone, and he looked down at his daughter with a sore heart. It wasn’t fair that she would never have a chance to know Emily. It wasn’t fair that Noah had lost a stepmother he adored. And it wasn’t fair that Olivia, who’d already suffered so much in her life, had been dealt such a painful blow.

* * *

“You don’t have to stay,” Olivia said. Her voice was tired and flat and he knew that she was mostly numb. She’d put Noah to bed and baby Emily was sleeping in a cradle with a monitor nearby. The apartment was quiet.

The baby—already nicknamed LeeLee by Noah—had spent her first night in the hospital before being released, but she was strong and healthy in spite of her early arrival into the world. She’d had a string of visitors during her short stay—all the familiar faces from Olivia’s squad as well as some new ones, and Barba’s mother Lucia—and Barba had done his best to run interference so Olivia didn’t feel obligated to put on a happy face for anyone.

Now this would be her first night at home with the kids and without Emily, and Barba could see that the quiet was already getting to her.

“Do you want me to leave?” he asked. If he left, he wasn’t sure what he would do with himself. His life outside her apartment had lost its importance; the center of his life had shifted, and that shift had him rotating off-balance.

“I don’t know how to answer that,” she admitted.

He looked around. “I could…sleep on the sofa,” he suggested. “Get up when the baby wakes so you can sleep.” He didn’t need to tell her that she’d begun to resemble a zombie. He knew her appearance was the very least of her concerns, but her lack of sleep was high on _his_ list.

She was moving listlessly around the apartment, picking things up and setting them back down. Every time her gaze landed on something of Emily’s it quickly skidded away, but she couldn’t escape her grief. It was going to catch up to her and he didn’t want her to be alone when it happened, not unless she specifically asked him to leave.

“Okay,” she finally said. She stopped in the middle of the living room and stood there fidgeting.

“Do you need something to eat? Drink?” She shook her head. “Is there anything I can do?”

She looked at him. “Oh, let me get you some blankets, do you need something to sleep—”

“You don’t have to worry about me,” he assured her. “Just…try to get some sleep? I’ll be here if anyone needs me.”

She nodded and turned away. He watched her walk into the bedroom and close the door, and he wasn’t sure what to do. He went quietly into the kids’ room where Noah was sleeping with a teddy bear hugged to his chest and LeeLee was asleep in her cradle. Barba watched them for a while, until he heard a thud from the other bedroom. He slipped carefully out of the room and left the door cracked open before walking to Olivia’s door.

He stood there, unsure. He could hear her moving around, could hear her talking quietly to herself. There was another muffled thud. “Liv?” he asked uncertainly. “Are you okay?”

She didn’t answer.

“I don’t know what to do,” he admitted. A moment later he blinked in surprise when she pulled the door open. “I’m not trying to crowd you—”

She turned away from him and started pacing the room and he stepped cautiously through the doorway. “What am I supposed to do with all her stuff? Look at this. Clothes, she’s got more clothes than I do. And shoes? I could never wear them, her feet are so small. I don’t know what to do with all this _stuff_.”

“You don’t have to make those decisions now,” he said. He pushed the door closed to muffle her voice, hoping she wouldn’t wake Noah or the baby.

“There’s so much _stuff_.” She bent and picked up a shoe from the floor, throwing it toward the closet where it thudded to the floor. “She should’ve told me what to do with it,” she said, and her voice cracked halfway through the sentence. “She shouldn’t have left this all up to me.”

“Liv,” he said, moving toward her. He thought she might pull away but when he gathered her into a hug she turned into his embrace and pressed her face against his shoulder. “You can cry, honey. You don’t have to try so hard to be okay.” A half sob found its way into his shirt. He rubbed her back and threaded his fingers into her hair, trying to absorb her pain into himself. “I know,” he said. “I know it’s a shitty thing.” Something like a strangled laugh left her throat at his choice of words. “I know you don’t know how right now, but you’ll survive this pain. I promise you, Olivia.”

She lifted her head and grabbed his face, covering his mouth with hers. He froze, momentarily stunned, but he made no move to pull away. He could feel the desperation in her kiss and his mouth opened to her automatically. He tried not to think about how much he’d always wanted her, how much he’d always loved her. When she turned her face away he dropped his forehead onto her shoulder.

She fumbled for his zipper and he settled heavy hands onto her hips. “Liv,” he breathed against her neck.

“Please,” she said. Her voice was rough with tears, those shed and unshed.

“Liv,” he repeated, lifting his head to look at her.

“It’s not fair, Rafael,” she whispered. “None of this is fair.”

“I know.” He raised a hand to swipe a gentle thumb over her cheek. “I know, sweetheart, but this isn’t—”

“Don’t tell me what is or isn’t healthy, or right,” she said, and there was a sudden glint of warning in her voice. “You can say no, don’t act like—”

“I’m not,” he said softly. His heart hurt—for Emily, for the baby who would never know her, for Noah, for himself…but most of all for Olivia, whom he’d loved since the moment he met her. “I’m not saying no, even if it means you’ll hate me later.”

She studied him for a few seconds, and she saw something in his face—probably the fact that he was willing to rip his heart out and lay it at her feet if she asked it of him—that made her face begin to crumple. She clutched at his shirt, giving the material a tug that rocked him on his feet. “I need…” She didn’t finish, and he figured she probably didn’t know exactly what she needed. To feel something good for a moment, a connection to another person to anchor her to the world. Perhaps to feel alive so she could properly mourn the one who wasn’t.

“Liv,” he said again, running his thumb along her jaw. He dipped his head, watching her face, giving her ample time to shove him away, and brushed his lips over hers. She made a small sound in her throat and started unbuttoning his shirt. Her fingers were shaking, so after the first few he took a half step backward and pulled the shirt over his head. His undershirt quickly followed it to the floor, and Olivia ran her fingers over his chest like she was reading a hidden message carved there.

Barba shivered under her touch. He couldn’t help it.

She stripped out of her clothes quickly and without ceremony, tossing them aside, and reached for Barba’s fly again. He let her unfasten his pants and shove them down his hips. He touched his hands to her sides tentatively, trailing his fingers up to her ribs. He wanted to tell her that she was beautiful and perfect and that he’d always loved her, but he knew she didn’t want to hear any of that now.

He kicked out of his jeans and followed when she pulled him toward the bed. He wanted her—he’d always wanted her, his desire for her was woven into his bones and tattooed under his skin—but his physical arousal was tempered by the weight of her emotion, by the gravity of the situation. He closed his eyes as she ran her hands down his stomach, held onto her as she stroked him to try to get him hard.

She pushed him down onto the edge of the bed and sank into a crouch in front of him, and he felt heat flush into his face. She didn’t say anything, didn’t look up at him. She ducked her head and took him into her mouth, and a rush of air escaped his lips. He closed his eyes again, settling a tentative hand at the back of her head.

She moved quickly and efficiently; her lips and tongue were gentle but insistent. His body was slow to respond but she was patient and diligent and slipped a hand between his legs to finger his testicles until he finally started to harden in her mouth.

He put a hand under her chin, carefully shifting himself away, and she looked up at his face. She rose and let him pull her onto the bed beside him. He rolled over her, covering her body with his, ducking his head to kiss her lips. He ran his hands over her skin, feeling the heat and tremble of her body. He wanted to take away her pain and he didn’t know how.

She wrapped her arms around him, her fingers digging into his back as she clung desperately to him, trying to pull him impossibly closer. She turned her face away from his, so he kissed her neck and shoulder and temple. He slipped a hand between her legs but she tightened her thighs and tried to shift away. He lifted his head to look at her face, but before he could ask anything she’d circled her fingers around his erection to urge him into place. She bent a leg around his thighs.

He turned his face into her hair, breathing in her scent, letting himself feel her fingers on his skin and the soft puff of her breath against his shoulder. He could feel the emotion thrumming through her, the desperation. He kissed the side of her neck as he sank into her, guided by her hand; he still wasn’t fully-hard, but he filled her in one slow motion.

She wrapped her other leg around him, clinging to him. Her nails bit into his back. She tightened around him, trying to pull him deeper. She made a sound in her throat that cut into his heart, but she turned her face and met his lips for a quick kiss to ease his worry.

He moved his hips as much as her tight grip on his body would allow.

She came with a sob that she tried to muffle against his neck. Her orgasm was weak, barely a ripple through her body. Barba started to shift away but she tightened her hold again, clinging to him like she was trying to absorb his body into hers. “Please,” she said in a broken whisper into the hollow of his shoulder.

He didn’t know if he could do it, but when he flexed his hips she slipped her fingers into his hair, caressing his scalp, and she ran her other hand over his back, and she said his name into his ear, and after a couple of shallow, desperate ruts he buried his face in her neck and came with a low cry.

She held onto him, her fingers digging into his head and back. He could feel the wetness of her tears against his shoulder, could feel the emotion wracking her body, and he could do nothing but hold her. He breathed raggedly against her neck, trying to let his weight and warmth comfort her.

When she pushed at his chest he rolled away, but when she started to get up he grabbed her wrist and said her name. For a moment he thought she was going to pull out of his loose grip and leave the bed, but then she let out another strangled cry and turned toward him, grabbing him, clutching at his naked skin as her whole body shook.

He held her while she sobbed and let her muffle her anguished cries against his body.

He cried quietly into her hair.

* * *

“What’s that?” Barba asked, nodding toward the envelope in her hands. He’d been sleeping on her sofa for a week, occasionally slipping into her bed when she needed someone to hold her while she cried herself to sleep but always returning to the couch when she’d settled. Nothing sexual had happened since that first night, and they hadn’t talked about it. He knew there would be time for that later. Now was a time for Olivia and Noah to grieve.

They’d moved into a new year. Barba knew he had to go back to work eventually, but he would worry about that later. He wasn’t getting much sleep even though Olivia tried to alternate late-night feedings and changings with him, but he dreaded the silence of his own neglected apartment. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to breathe without knowing he could walk a few steps to lay eyes on his daughter.

“It’s from Emily,” Olivia said, holding up the letter. “She wrote one for Noah, too. I was supposed to open it after…she was gone, but I haven’t been able to read it yet.”

Barba nodded his understanding.

“Rafael, I want you to know how much it means to me that you’ve been here.”

“Of course,” he said. “Anything I—”

“No, not _of course_ ,” she cut in. “I know none of this has been fair to you, and you’ve put your whole life on hold.”

“My life is different now,” he said simply.

“I’ve taken advantage of you, of your kindness and patience and your…willingness to help me.”

_My love for you is what you mean_ , he thought but didn’t say. Time had passed and things had changed but he and Olivia had always understood each other.

“I’m sure you need a break. You deserve a break.”

“Are you asking me to leave?”

“No.”

“I don’t know what to do if I’m not here,” he confessed.

“I know you love her,” she said quietly. “I see it. She’s changed you. I know, being a parent does that to you. And you didn’t have any time to prepare.”

He smiled. “Neither did you the first time, as I recall.”

She smiled in return. “I think you’ve adjusted better than I did.” She paused, regarding him. “I know you love her but so do I. I need you to know that.”

“I do know,” he said. “She’s as much yours as mine.” He considered. “Maybe more, all things—”

“We can make this work.”

He didn’t ask what she meant, but he nodded.

“I know I don’t have any right to ask you for more favors, but…I need to be alone for a little while. Just an hour or two. Do you think you could stay with the kids?”

“Actually, do you mind if I take them to visit my mother? She’s been anxious to come over but I’ve stalled. She’d love to see LeeLee—and Noah.”

“It’s January. You want to bundle up a newborn and transport her across boroughs…by yourself?”

He hesitated, suddenly hit by a rush of self-doubt. “Well…if you’d rather I not…”

She crossed toward him and laid a hand on his chest. “I’m not questioning your ability to do it, Rafael,” she assured him. “I trust you completely.” They looked at each other for long moments, a dozen unspoken thoughts passing between them. Finally, she leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. “Thank you,” she said quietly.

* * *

Olivia pulled the letter from the envelope and unfolded it with shaky fingers. She was sitting on the edge of her bed. The apartment was silent except for the tick of a clock. She felt a pang at the sight of Emily’s familiar handwriting, and she drew a breath to gather her resolve.

She started reading.

_Liv_

_You’re the love of my life_

Olivia’s vision blurred and she set the letter on the bed, covering her face with her hands. A choked sob escaped her throat. She couldn’t draw a breath; it felt like someone had punched a hole in her chest and taken her heart in an unforgiving fist. She didn’t know how to survive this kind of pain, and she dragged herself onto the bed and curled into a ball on her side, struggling to breathe past all the cries lodged in her throat and chest.

She’d cried so many tears in the past week that she could scarcely believe her body could still produce more. Sometimes she would start to feel alright, almost normal, and then the grief would sneak up behind her and throw a bag over her head, cutting off her light and air.

She didn’t think she could’ve survived without Noah, without little Emily, without Barba.

She cried until she couldn’t cry anymore, and then she pushed herself up and forced herself to read the letter. Emily had put her heart onto this piece of paper, and Olivia knew she needed to read it if she was going to properly grieve her wife. There were things she didn’t want to acknowledge, not even in her own mind, but she had to face the truth.

_Liv_

_You’re the love of my life, my soulmate if such things exist. I spent my whole life looking for you without even knowing it until I met you. Marrying you was the happiest day of my life. You and Noah were all the family I ever needed. We talked about more kids, we had dreams of a big future that was never meant to be. But I want you to know I would’ve been happy with just the three of us forever if the universe could’ve only allowed it._

_I can’t explain to you why I did what I did, not in any way that’ll really make sense to you. I needed you to have a piece of me and I needed our family to survive when I was gone._

_I know you love me. Please know that I never doubted that, that you never did anything wrong. We could’ve grown old together, Liv. Nothing would’ve made me happier. I know you love me, but I know you love him, too. You loved him first._

_You lost him once and now you’re losing me, but it’s not too late for you to be happy again. I know you would never go to him on your own, and I know I had no right to make this decision for you, but I can’t give you myself. Maybe I can help you find your way back to him, but if not at least I know that our child will have two parents who’ll love and protect her._

_I hope you forgive me. I hope there’s something after this so we can see each other again and you can tell me all about your long and happy life, about Noah and our baby growing up and maybe starting families of their own. I can almost see it, and it makes me happy._

_I love you forever, Liv._

Her phone buzzed on the bedside table and she reached for it. Her eyes were swollen, but she was able to read Barba’s text: **Do you need more time?**

She considered before answering. **I’m ok. You can come back if you want.**

**My mom would like to come for dinner. She’ll cook. You can absolutely say no.**

**That sounds nice** , she answered honestly. **I’ll probably be in the shower when you get here.**

**Ok see you soon**.

She looked down at those words, thinking _I know you love him, too. You loved him first_. She looked at the wedding picture on the dresser across the room and let out a shaky breath. She looked down at the letter and ran her finger gently over the final line, afraid of smudging the ink even though it was long-dried.

_I love you forever_ , she thought.


End file.
